


When Peggy Met Diana

by psocoptera



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman (2017), crossovers - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Meet-Cute, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psocoptera/pseuds/psocoptera
Summary: Everyone assumes they met on a battlefield.  But this is the real story.





	When Peggy Met Diana

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).

> Happy Femslash 2019 Rivulet027! This is such a fun femslash pairing to me, they're just like... concentrated, unadulterated, awesome ladies. <3
> 
> Thank you to my beta for checking it over.

Everyone assumes they met on a battlefield. Fighting Nazis, or fighting aliens, or something more obscure, the frogmen invasion, the golem boom, one of those things.

In fact they met in Selfridges, in the lingerie department. Peggy had gotten pretty good by then at getting through a fight without destroying her clothes, but sometimes there were things with claws, or chemical sprays, or in this case an unfortunate slime incident, that could render an entire outfit unrecoverable. And she had only come to London for meetings and hadn't at all packed with an eye towards losing her favorite suit and most comfortable girdle in one dramatic spew.

So there Peggy was, considering the merits of rayon vs cotton and structure vs mobility, when she looked up and saw Diana, who was holding up a black V-neck slip with a contemplative expression.

"I knew right away there was something about her," Peggy always says, but only Diana knows that her very first thought was actually how stunning Diana would look in the slip.

"You knew she was..." people always trail off. Nobody in the 40s (or for that matter the 50s, 60s, or several decades following) is eager to put a name to what Diana might be. "Divine", "demigod", and even "immortal" are all theologically disturbing to contemplate. Eventually, of course, there will be Thor, and the big red S, and the public understanding of the axes of alien and deity will be hopelessly tangled. But none of that has happened yet when Peggy and Diana are sitting on living-room sofas with their fingertips quietly touching between them, giving their friends a peek into the story of their association.

Peggy shakes her head, or snorts, or sighs. "No," she says. "I thought she was a new super-soldier." The perfect, almost poreless skin, the way Diana had almost seemed to glow, the muscles visible under her blouse that had suggested she could hold up a person as easily as she held up the slip: Peggy had seen all that before. There was no good reason a new super-soldier should be out shopping at Selfridges without Peggy ever having heard about the program, but plenty of bad ones.

"So I set up to tail her," Peggy says, exchanging a little smile with Diana.

"It was well done," Diana says quietly. "A human would not have seen her." Whoever is listening winces; there's that uncomfortable labeling issue again. Peggy might roll her eyes a little.

"I had no idea at first she was playing with me," Peggy says. "We ran around Westminster for awhile, usual stuff, taxis, buses. I had no idea she could just... _voop_ up to the rooftops." _Voop_ gets a little two-fingered hand motion that could be legs springing and taking off.

"I was intrigued," Diana says, shrugging. There's something smug in the edges of her smile, like, "who could blame me?".

"Even once I realized she'd spotted me, I thought she was just trying to lose me," Peggy says. "I think it took until we'd gone through a restaurant, a cinema, and a garden that I realized she was flirting."

"It was the wrong time of day for dancing!" Diana says. "I had to show a girl a good time." The grin she flashes is brief but blinding.

"I could never go back to that restaurant after I had to ride their dessert cart down the stairs like that," Peggy says. She might smile fondly, or punch Diana in the arm. People blink, if she mentions that; they both radiate such dignity that everyone always pictures the chase a lot more dignified than it had ended up.

"She finally let me catch up to her at Marble Arch," Peggy says, if she's telling this part. "_Posing_, not a hair out of place, and of course me looking like I'd been running in circles for miles."

"I wasn't posing," Diana says.

"Just because it comes naturally doesn't mean you don't do it," Peggy says. "So there she is, and I don't know if she's been testing me, or testing herself - "

"You knew I was flirting," Diana might correct her.

"I sort of knew," Peggy would answer. "I hoped, obviously. So we just stood there for a minute, definitely not posing, and I said - "

Maybe in a perfect world Peggy would have been wearing red, and Diana blue, or vice versa. Peggy had been wearing a warm grey, and Diana a cool grey; Peggy had lost her hat and Diana had never bothered with one. Peggy had stepped forward, slowly, until they were standing about as close together as they had been at Selfridges, this time with no counters between them, and the pedestrians of London somehow knowing to give them space.

"What, no Eros statue?" Peggy had lifted her chin, not knowing if she was about to be threatened, taunted, warned off, challenged further. She wanted this strange superwoman to be friendly. She wanted the openly admiring look on her face to be real.

"Oh, that guy?" Diana had said, making a face.

"Of course my heart sank when I heard that," Peggy will tell people later. "I thought we were being symbolic, I thought it was a rejection. I had no idea she knew him personally."

Anyone listening to the story always squirms a little.

"And then she said, 'if you mean in Piccadilly Circus, that's Anteros', because it was definitely important to correct me about _that_ right that second."

"They're different people!" Diana says, laughing and holding up her hands in protest. "I don't mix up your colleagues."

They had been walking towards each other until they were nose to nose, closer than polite, Diana looking down from her extra inches and Peggy looking up. Peggy could feel the blaze of her, could smell her ozone-and-ambrosia tang. She suspected that Diana could also smell her unfortunately more human smell of having been running frantically around London punctuated by occasional encounters with overflowing skips, bus exhaust, and dessert carts.

Peggy doesn't make this part of the story, how she'd thought she could feel the pull between them like gravity, how she didn't even know Diana's name yet, but had never been so close to kissing someone in public. A chase scene is a funny story. Waxing rhapsodic about the amber glints in Diana's dark eyes would just be embarrassing.

"I got us off the street," Diana might say, meaning by which that she had wrapped her arm around Peggy's waist and jumped them up to the nearest roof, across the road and seven stories up. Peggy had grabbed on to her shoulder reflexively, and didn't let go, heart and stomach still trying to catch up from where they'd been left behind on the pavement. Diana had kept her hold on Peggy, too.

"It obviously turned out well," their friends say, looking at the pair of them. "But how did you know? Before you'd ever gone on a mission together, before you even knew that you liked the same... things, it was love at first sight, _really_?"

"Not love," Diana says, "Not yet." Her hand finds Peggy's like an apology, like she was somehow slow for needing conversation and time to get her deeper feelings involved. "But I knew I was interested."

"I don't like to waste time any more," she had said to Peggy, up on the roof. Peggy could feel the iron under the wool of her suit and she could see down to where they'd been standing just seconds earlier; she had known that whatever Diana was, she was extraordinary, and that stumbling across her in a department store had irrevocably changed her life.

"I know something about that," Peggy had answered, and she had been the one to lean in first, up on her toes, smearing Diana's paintless mouth with crimson.

"Peggy Carter," she had said, breaking away from the kiss to breathe.

"Diana of Themyscira," Diana had said. "Do you follow everyone you meet shopping, Miss Carter?"

"Only the ones who take me such lovely places," Peggy had said, and kissed Diana again while she was still laughing.

Holding hands on a living room sofa, among their friends, two women smile the same fond smile.


End file.
